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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26241010">Inventions</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/takeasmallbite/pseuds/takeasmallbite'>takeasmallbite</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angel Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley invents fashion, Fluff, Gabriel is a dick, Little bit of angst, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Pining</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:34:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,847</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26241010</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/takeasmallbite/pseuds/takeasmallbite</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Crowley and Aziraphale knew each other before Crowley Fell, and their meeting on Earth wasn't an introduction, but a reunion?</p><p>(AKA the one where Crowley is so fashionable that God kicks him out of Heaven)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Party</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Just thought I should note that I have seen one other person who used the name "Nachashael" for Crowley's God-given "angelic" name. I didn't see that until after I'd "come up with" the name (by smashing Hebrew words together), so kudos to them for doing it first.</p><p>Daily updates starting 9/1/2020 and ending 9/6/2020. Enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Well, yeah. Sometimes you feel things that are a bit not good. That’s the point, angel.”</p><p>All at once, his trepidation drained away. Angel. He was, of course, an angel, but Nachashael hadn’t meant it like that. It was something else. A term of endearment.</p><p>Aziraphale quite liked that.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was angels, not demons, and certainly not humans, who threw the universe’s very first party.</p><p>And it was <em>boring</em>.</p><p>The angels are a very uniform bunch. They like their clothes clean and pressed and pleated just so. They all wear very similar colours, and while they each speak a bit differently (some with what would later become an “American accent” and others with what would become the mark of a “Southern pansy”), their speech is still precise, simultaneously uniform and unique. Though the angels are all <em>very special</em> (God says so), this one a little rounder, that one a little taller, there is an expectation that the angels will conform. These days, the rules are a bit looser, the monotony no longer enforced with an iron fist and a flaming sword.</p><p>In the earliest days of the universe, though, in the time of the universe’s first and worst party, the rules were much, much stricter.</p><p>That is why the angel Aziraphale, perfectly bland because it was practically law, found himself so very interested in one Nachashael, an angel that appeared not to care much for conformity. Perfection in the eyes of God was conformity. She asked that everyone step neatly into line despite the differences between them, no questions allowed. You can’t <em>believe</em> in an Ineffable Plan if you’re always <em>questioning</em> it, after all. If you feel the need to question the dress code, who knows what other trouble you might get in? It was a terrible balancing act, but smiling and nodding was part of the gig.</p><p>Aziraphale made it a point to not question the Word of God, and he reminded himself, as he watched Nachashael at that awful party, that uniformity was <em>definitely important and not just a form of control</em>. Sometimes, traitorous thoughts like that popped into his head, and he made sure not to focus on them.</p><p>Nachashael was unlike any other angel Aziraphale had ever seen. For one, he chose not to wear only shades of white and cream. Mixed in with all the sandy tan was gold. Gold rings, gold bracelets, gold earrings, gold-rimmed spectacles. God had not designed any of the angels to have poor vision, so the glasses had to be purely a fashion choice. Even his eyes were liquid gold. His boots had a bit of a heel, and his walk had a bit more swagger than the rest of the angels. Most shockingly of all, though, was his <em>hair</em>, not brown or white or blonde or black, but an intense orange-red.</p><p>Aziraphale was transfixed the moment he first saw him in a meeting. Here was an angel who, by all accounts, did not fit. Not even Lucifer matched Nachashael’s downright flamboyance.</p><p>Looking at him at the party, though, Aziraphale was reminded of rumors he’d heard about a thing called <em>sin</em> which was supposedly spreading around the more individualistic angels. Aziraphale, who never assumed the worst, figured that if there was such a thing as sin, and some angels were doing it, what Nachashael was doing had to be it. <em>Surely fashion faux pas are the worst of the rebellious angels’ transgressions,</em> Aziraphale thought.</p><p>And he concluded that, <em>If that’s the worst of it, then that’s not so bad.</em></p><p>Then he thought something else: <em>Could I maybe go meet him?</em></p><p>It was a party, after all, the first party ever. Earth had just been created, and the angels were celebrating. Being angels, though, the party was very quiet, very bright, and very sober (since alcohol hadn’t been created, yet). Still, at parties, you mingle.</p><p>Aziraphale stood against the wall, alone at one end of a long row of windows. No one wanted to talk to him since, even for an angel, he was thought to be boring. Most of the angels (especially Gabriel, a notorious kiss-up) were a bit put off that <em>he</em> had been drafted to help with Project Populate Earth, the team that would help God develop whatever was meant to live on Earth.</p><p>He glanced down the row of windows, and, after a moment of staring at Nachashael (while trying to not look like he was staring), he mustered up some confidence and wandered over to him. The red-headed angel, who leaned against one of the windows, did not look up when Aziraphale reached him. After an awkward moment of waiting, Aziraphale cleared his throat, and Nachashael lazily looked up, unamused. Even unamused, though, he was quite striking.</p><p>“Hello,” said Aziraphale, unable to quite make eye contact with the other angel, whose golden eyes seemed to drill straight through him.</p><p>Nachashael simply nodded in response, then looked away.</p><p>Aziraphale tried again.</p><p>“Hi, I am, uh, Aziraphale.”</p><p>“Bit of a mouthful,” the red-haired angel replied, still looking away.</p><p>“Yes, I suppose it is. What might your name be?” Aziraphale asked, even though he knew his name (he’d heard it during staff meetings). He found the other angel fascinating and refused to let this opportunity to talk to him go to waste; anything that might spark conversation was worth saying.</p><p>“Nachashael.”</p><p>“Well, then, that makes two of us, yes? The other ones have such simple names. Michael, Gabriel, and, well, <em>other ones</em>,” Aziraphale said, his memory failing him.</p><p><em>There really are too many of us</em>, he thought to himself, though he knew that was a terrible thing to think. He was sure it was all in the Plan that there be exactly the number of angels there were, and he was almost certain he was the only angel who would think there were <em>too many</em> angels. <em>I can’t be alone in struggling to keep them all straight, though</em>.</p><p>His lapse in memory proved to be just what he needed to get his foot in the door, though. The gold-laden angel managed to drag his eyes away from the floor to look up at him.</p><p>“There really are too damn many of us, aren’t there?” Nachashael complained, “Each with our own shit jobs, I mean, there’s got to be a way to consolidate-“</p><p>“Excuse me,” Aziraphale interrupted, instantly curious, “what did you say?”</p><p>“I think there’s too many angels, and we’d probably be better off if-“</p><p>“No, no, those <em>words</em>. You said, what was it? ‘Damn’ and, how did the other one go? ‘Shhhh-?’” Aziraphale trailed off, having already forgotten how the other one had ended.</p><p>A small smile pulled at Nachashael’s lips, and, matter-of-factly, he said, “Shit.”</p><p>“<em>Shit</em>, yes, and <em>damn, </em>that’s what they were. What are they?” Aziraphale stepped closer, overeager now that he was finally talking with him.</p><p>“They’re <em>expletives</em>. I just invented them the other day,” Nachashael said, standing up straight and looking rather proud of himself.</p><p>“Really? What are they for?”</p><p>Nachashael looked Aziraphale up and down (which made Aziraphale feel quite a bit like prey), and asked, “Can you keep a secret?”</p><p>“Oh, yes, of course,” Aziraphale replied, even though he thought secrets were bad. Still, there was something electrifying about being trusted with a secret from this particular angel. Nachashael leaned in close, and Aziraphale’s heartbeat sped up just a bit.</p><p>“Well,” Nachashael whispered, “you use them when you’re feeling mean, or angry, or crude. Or sometimes just because you feel like it.”</p><p>Aziraphale was stunned. If pearls existed, and he’d been wearing them, he’d have clutched them.</p><p>“Why ever would you come up with such a thing?” Aziraphale asked, unsure of what to do. Words meant to express only negative emotions, or even worse, <em>purposeless</em> words? In a universe where the Ineffable Plan <em>definitely existed</em> and absolutely ruled supreme, how could <em>purposelessness</em> be justifiable?</p><p>“Because why not? There’s nothing in the rules that says you can’t express yourself. Besides, I imagine that if those words weren’t meant to exist, God wouldn’t have let it happen. I think it’s fine,” Nachashael explained, still leaning into Aziraphale’s personal space. Aziraphale noticed that he wore some scent, like vanilla. It was nice.</p><p>“I suppose that makes sense,” Aziraphale said, hesitant, “but it still feels a bit not good.”</p><p>“Well, yeah. Sometimes you feel things that are <em>a bit not good</em>. That’s the point, angel.”</p><p>All at once, his trepidation drained away. <em>Angel</em>. He was, of course, <em>an</em> angel, but Nachashael hadn’t meant it like that. It was something else. A term of endearment.</p><p>Aziraphale quite liked that.</p><p>“What else have you, um, <em>invented</em>?”</p><p>Nachashael smiled broadly and took Aziraphale by the elbow. He guided him away from the party and through a series of doors and hallways until they finally reached an unmarked flight of stairs going down. A look of shock and excitement flashed across Aziraphale's face, and when he met Nachashael’s eyes, he knew he was feeling that same nervous glee. Nachashael started down the steps.</p><p>Aziraphale could have sworn he heard that Earth wasn’t open for visitors, yet.</p><p>But he followed Nachashael down the steps, and he did not protest.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Earth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“What is that?” He asked, pointing at the image in the water. White-blonde hair, roundish face, bright eyes- a person he’d never seen.</p>
<p>“It’s a reflection. It’s the first thing I ever invented,” Nachashael said, then pointing at the lighter-haired reflection, “That’s you, angel.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Welcome to Earth,” Nachashael said when they’d reached the bottom of the stairs. They stood before a river, the sky above them dark and blank. They could only see because of a tiny amount of light filtering down through the clouds, from Heaven itself. The landscape was flat, the river had no bends, and because there were no elevation changes, the water did not yet flow. Still, like a blank canvas is inspiring, the blank Earth was quite beautiful. It was waiting for invention and life.</p>
<p>Aziraphale was excited to see what Earth would become someday, with all the life Heaven had planned for it. God had drafted a select group of angels to help Her develop the life-forms that would occupy the new planet. The other angels saw it as grunt work (except Gabriel, who saw it as a personal affront from God that he was not chosen, and Aziraphale who dearly loved the humans). Most angels thought the new life-forms would be inferior to them, so they of course looked down on Aziraphale, too. He was convinced that God could not create anything that would satisfy them other than more angels. He was unsure of how such prejudices were Heavenly at all.</p>
<p>“You’re not saying you invented this, are you? Because I’m relatively sure God would not like you to go around-”</p>
<p>“No, no,” Nachashael interrupted, bringing Aziraphale closer to the river, “Earth belongs to the lady upstairs, but this over here is all me. Look.”</p>
<p>Nachashael pointed at the water, and Aziraphale looked. Two people stared back, one Nachashael, and the other…</p>
<p>“What is <em>that</em>?” He asked, pointing at the image in the water. White-blonde hair, roundish face, bright eyes- a person he’d never seen.</p>
<p>“It’s a reflection. It’s the first thing I ever invented,” Nachashael said, then pointing at the lighter-haired reflection, “That’s you, angel.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale couldn’t stop looking at himself, fascinated by the way his double moved in the surface of the water. Since God had made angels exactly as She wanted them to be, reflections served no purpose. Nachashael had invented an entirely useless thing.</p>
<p>And Aziraphale loved it.</p>
<p>“You want to know what came right after reflections?” Nachashael asked, meeting Aziraphale’s gaze in the water, “<em>Vanity.</em>”</p>
<p>“Oh, my, what’s that?” Aziraphale asked, tearing his eyes from his own reflection to look at the other angel. Aziraphale noticed for the first time that even the feathers at the tips of Nachashael’s wings were dipped in gold.</p>
<p>Nachashael motioned at himself and posed, throwing his head back and putting his hands on his hips. Aziraphale barely suppressed a laugh.</p>
<p>“Hey!” Crowley snapped, pointing an accusatory finger toward Aziraphale. “Unlike the rest of them upstairs, I <em>care</em> about how I look. That’s an entirely new concept. I mean, I can’t spend the rest of my existence wearing Earth-tones and solid colours, can I?”</p>
<p>Aziraphale knew right then that he wanted to spend the rest of time with Nachashael, the first angel to ever have a fashion sense.</p>
<p>Immediately after he came to that realisation, he wanted to run as far as he could from the inventive angel. He’d created expletives, reflections, and vanity all because he <em>could</em>. While his argument that <em>perhaps it’s all part of the Plan</em> certainly made sense, Aziraphale couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming anxiety toward that conclusion. How could he <em>know</em> that this was not the sin that Gabriel and the rest had warned against? Their staff meetings had been completely unambiguous: absolutely no sinning, whatever that is!</p>
<p>(God evidently hadn’t sent out the memo about what actually qualified as sinning, yet, but sin was out there and it was <em>definitely dangerous!</em>)</p>
<p>“Nachashael, I’m not entirely sure you should be doing all this. It all feels rather sneaky,” said Aziraphale, regretfully stepping back from the banks of the motionless river. He desperately wanted to continue to look at himself (and the other angel) in the water, but, deep in his heart, something felt wrong about it all.</p>
<p>“I’m not being sneaky,” Nachashael argued, pushing up his spectacles and looking haughtily out into the distance.</p>
<p>“Your name <em>means</em> ‘sneaky!’”</p>
<p>“Then I’ll go by a different name!” Nachashael said, sounding a bit desperate. He grabbed Aziraphale by the shoulders to emphasise his resolve.</p>
<p>“You can’t do that,” Aziraphale replied softly, “that name was given to you by God Herself.”</p>
<p>“So? If She hasn’t decided what the rules are, then how can we know we’re breaking them?” Nachashael said, squeezing Aziraphale’s shoulders. Aziraphale stood a little straighter, tried to steel himself against the rebellious angel.</p>
<p>“What if it’s…<em>sinful</em>?” Aziraphale asked, saying the final word a bit quieter, as if it were one of Nachashael’s newly minted expletives.</p>
<p>“We can’t know until She decides what that even is. Earth is a day old. There are no rules, yet.”</p>
<p>Then, with a little smile, he added, “I’ve got plausible deniability, Aziraphale.”</p>
<p>That shut him down. He simply looked at Nachashael and appreciated the way the brilliance of the gold he wore complemented the fiery, unnatural colour of his hair. The universe was young, and the Earth even younger, and it was true: there were no real rules, just vague sensations of <em>maybe</em> right and <em>maybe</em> wrong. The other angels said not to sin, but sin had yet to be defined. Lines were being drawn in the sand between the complaisant and the rebellious, but on what basis? Aziraphale wasn’t convinced he wanted to participate in the line-drawing. It seemed a bit mean, and Aziraphale was never mean, not if he could avoid it.</p>
<p>“So, Nachashael, what name would you prefer?” Aziraphale asked, trying his best to relax a little. He still had the nagging sensation that Nachashael was to be avoided, but no justification for that feeling. So, he chose to ignore it.</p>
<p>“Well, how about, I don’t know, something like,” Nachashael said, finally releasing Aziraphale from his grip, “how about <em>Crowley</em>?”</p>
<p>“<em>Crowley</em>? What is that supposed to mean?”</p>
<p>“Honestly, I’m not entirely sure. It might mean nothing. It just sort of…came to me. It’s got a nice ring to it, though, don’t you think?”</p>
<p>Aziraphale tried out the name a few times, saying it quietly to himself.</p>
<p>“Yes, I suppose it does,” Aziraphale said after a moment. Even the golden angel’s <em>name</em> was meaningless. Aziraphale had to admit to himself that he enjoyed the meaninglessness of the name, though. <em>Having a name define you solely as </em>sneaky<em> is a bit limiting</em>, he thought to himself. <em>Why not branch out?</em></p>
<p>“I would prefer that you only use it when it’s just the two of us, though,” Crowley said, almost bashfully.</p>
<p>
  <em>Just the two of us?</em>
</p>
<p>“Of course, <em>Crowley</em>,” Aziraphale replied. He took a step closer to the water and looked at his reflection once more. Crowley stood beside him, and for a moment, Aziraphale wondered what it would be like to leave Heaven permanently. If he were to stay on Earth, would he miss Heaven? With all the papers to file, and nonexistent rules to follow, and rudeness from the other angels, he wasn’t convinced leaving Heaven permanently would be all that bad.</p>
<p>Once again, he made eye contact with the angel Crowley through the water.</p>
<p>
  <em>Just the two of us.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Gabriel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“I really hope you’re not confused, Aziraphale. I’m not doing this out of personal concern for either of you. Heavenly Mother likes you, and She is giving you a second chance. You can deny fraternizing with Nachashael, but that does not change the fact that She wants him and anyone else like him gone. Unless you want to get caught up in that, I suggest you break off whatever you have with him, now.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crowley and Aziraphale continued to visit Earth every night after work. Crowley would leave the Earthly Records Department and Aziraphale would finish up the day’s work on Project Populate Earth, and they would walk downstairs together. Weeks passed. It seemed that God was more concerned with what could <em>potentially</em> go on Earth than she was with actually putting anything there, so Earth was effectively theirs. Crowley continued to invent things that amazed Aziraphale, dozens of little miracles just for him. After expletives, reflections, and vanity came dancing, and to go with the dancing he created music, and then he’d taught Aziraphale to dance. It was wonderful. There was something he felt for Crowley that he was quite convinced Crowley felt, too, some sort of love for which there was no name, yet. They fit together so well, the plain and the adorned.</p>
<p>Aziraphale had even begun to use some special words just for Crowley. <em>Dear</em>, and <em>darling</em>, and such. Crowley continued to call Aziraphale <em>angel</em>, and somehow, that statement of fact had yet to lose its lustre.</p>
<p>Perhaps most beautiful of all of Crowley’s creations were the stars. Glitter in the night sky, something to take up all that empty space. Aziraphale was made speechless by their beauty the first time he saw them. It hadn’t taken long after that initial trip to Earth for Aziraphale’s fears about Crowley to fade. He thought it impossible that beautiful things created by a beautiful angel could be bad. God had yet to decide what sin was going to be, and Aziraphale preferred that She never make up her mind, for fear that She would criminalize something of Crowley’s.</p>
<p>When a tree, created by God, appeared by the river one day, Crowley decided something should probably grow on it, and apples came into existence. After a few days, though, the fruit dropped from the tree and began to ferment on the ground. Crowley tasted the fermented apple and found that it made his head do some funny things, so, by inventing fruit, he’d inadvertently created alcohol, and that was added to his list of wonderful inventions, too. Aziraphale grew to rely on their meetings. They would discuss the humans who would soon be placed on Earth, the flora and fauna, and if everything really did have a meaning. Aziraphale was beginning to like the idea of meaninglessness, of creating and loving and enjoying simply for the sake of it.</p>
<p>It was only a matter of time, though, before something went wrong.</p>
<p>One day, work ran late for Aziraphale. He was stuck working with the other angels on the humans, and by the time they were done deciding if pink was a reasonable hair colour for the creatures, Aziraphale was exhausted. All he wanted was to go downstairs and meet with Crowley, as he had a little invention of his own to share. See, Aziraphale had taken special note of Crowley’s disdain for solid colours, so he’d created a sort of pattern. He named it <em>tartan</em>, and he had a small square of the fabric in his jacket pocket, barely visible unless one was looking for it. Excitedly, but with marked fatigue in his step, he made his way toward the stairs to Earth. He was nearly there when a voice behind him called his name.</p>
<p>“Oh, hello, Gabriel,” Aziraphale said, trying his best to sound pleased as he turned to face him. Aziraphale loudly thought expletives at Gabriel, but it was not nearly as satisfying as he imagined saying them out loud would have been.</p>
<p>“Aziraphale, where are you going?” Gabriel asked, poorly masking his dislike for Aziraphale. The white-haired angel wasn’t sure it was allowed for angels to dislike one another, but since it was clearly mutual, he couldn’t really pass judgement.</p>
<p>“Oh, just…for a walk.”</p>
<p>“To Earth,” Gabriel said with a smarmy grin. It was not a question. Gabriel took a step toward Aziraphale, clearly meaning to intimidate him. It worked.</p>
<p>Aziraphale did not reply.</p>
<p>“Well, since we both know I’m right, I’ll speed this along. You’ve been meeting with Nachashael on Earth, correct?” Gabriel asked, refusing to look away from the white-blonde angel for even a moment. On the surface, his eyes seemed friendly, but they both new better. Aziraphale would not let himself be bullied, so he stared right back, even though he really would have rather run away and hid than confront Gabriel.</p>
<p>“I do <em>know</em> Nachashael,” Aziraphale admitted, willing his voice not to waver.</p>
<p>Gabriel’s smile dropped. Barely above a whisper, he said, “Of course. I wouldn’t tell all either if I were in your spot. I’m not in your spot, though, so all I can do is give you some advice: stay away from Nachashael.”</p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>Gabriel chuckled. It was a laugh so full of venom that Aziraphale wondered if Gabriel was actually an angel at all. He seemed so different from the rest.</p>
<p>“God has finally decided what sin is going to be. Things like pride and lust and whatnot. Sounds like it’s going to incriminate some of our more <em>independent</em> friends- Azazel, Lucifer, <em>Nachashael</em>, just to name a few. Of course, we don’t currently have solid <em>proof</em> that they’re sinners, but rumors still say a lot.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale put all his energies into maintaining absolute tranquility on his face. He would not sell out his friend with a tear or a frown, not if he could help it. His mind briefly flickered to whether <em>lust</em> was one of Nachashael’s inventions, or if that honor went to one of the other rebellious angels.</p>
<p>Refocusing, Aziraphale replied, “I appreciate your concern, Gabriel, but in the very little time I’ve spent with Cro-<em>Nachashael</em>, I must say he seems perfectly pleasant and angelic. I don’t think you’ve anything to be upset about.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale tried to turn away from him, but Gabriel grabbed him roughly by the arm.</p>
<p>“I really hope you’re not confused, Aziraphale. I’m not doing this out of personal concern for either of you. Heavenly Mother likes you, and She is giving you a second chance. You can deny <em>fraternizing</em> with Nachashael, but that does not change the fact that She wants him and anyone else like him <em>gone</em>. Unless you want to get caught up in that, I suggest you break off whatever you have with him, <em>now</em>.”</p>
<p>Gabriel’s fingers dug painfully into Aziraphale’s arm, his eyes like daggers as he stared Aziraphale down.</p>
<p>“For the record, though,” Gabriel said, the smug grin and false friendliness returning, “I wouldn’t mind seeing you go.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale feigned laughter. He wasn’t a good liar, and it sounded more nervous than he’d intended. Still, he soldiered on, determined not to let Gabriel, of all angels, have the last word.</p>
<p>“Oh, I don’t think you’d like them very much. They’re shaping up to be rather <em>independent</em>, after all. It doesn’t seem like you like that very much. They actually remind me of some of our friends, Azazel, Lucifer, <em>Nachashael</em>, just to name a <em>few</em>.”</p>
<p>Gabriel’s smile dropped a fraction, but the mask of angelic friendliness stayed mostly intact.</p>
<p>Aziraphale pulled his arm free and continued down the hall. When he was sure Gabriel was gone, he made his way back to the stairwell to Earth. He and Crowley preferred to walk, since it gave them more time to talk and enjoy each other’s company. This time though, he unfurled his wings and <em>flew</em> down the stairwell. He had no time to waste.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Fallout</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“I call that one a kiss. It just popped into my head earlier. I think it’s something the humans will like,” Crowley explained, “and, I have to say, I certainly enjoyed that.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Crowley, dear, we have to talk!” Aziraphale exclaimed as he landed. Crowley sat alone under Earth’s first tree, staring at the river, which now flowed because God had decided to give the Earth some bumpy bits. Even She’d thought the unadorned lump of rock was boring, and she made it. Aziraphale was not sure if anyone had heard word about how She felt about the stars. They were still in the sky, so She couldn’t have been <em>too</em> opposed to them.</p>
<p>Crowley stood up to meet Aziraphale, albeit unsteadily. The ground around him was littered with the cores of fermented apples. Aziraphale rushed forward to keep him from falling right into the river.</p>
<p>“Oi, there you are, ‘ziraphale! I’ve got something to show you!” Crowley said, a big, stupid smile spreading across his lips as he grabbed Aziraphale’s face with both of his hands. Crowley’s rings were cold against Aziraphale’s skin, and his spectacles had slipped low on his nose.</p>
<p>“Crowley, darling, sober up right now. We haven’t got time for this.”</p>
<p>Crowley looked a bit confused (and disappointed), but he conceded. After a moment of straining, awareness returned to his golden eyes and the goofy smile narrowed into something more respectable.</p>
<p>“Okay, I’m not drunk now, but I’ve still got something to show you. Honestly, I was relying on being drunk for this, but you’ve given me no choice,” Crowley said, still cupping Aziraphale’s face with his hands.</p>
<p>“Crowley, I don’t think now is really the time for this. I’ve got to tell you-“</p>
<p>But Aziraphale was not allowed to finish his sentence, as Crowley stepped in closer, and gently pressed their lips together. It was brief, and chaste. Aziraphale had never seen or heard of anything like it, yet he knew that it meant something very special. Crowley pulled away, just far enough to speak.</p>
<p>“I call that one a <em>kiss</em>. It just popped into my head earlier. I think it’s something the humans will like,” Crowley explained, “and, I have to say, I certainly enjoyed that.”</p>
<p>“Of course, dear,” Aziraphale said very quietly.</p>
<p>Crowley’s face fell. “Something wrong, angel?” Crowley asked as he searched Aziraphale’s face. He was somewhat abrasive, but he had the capacity for kindness and care unlike anything Aziraphale had ever known. It made his heart ache.</p>
<p>“Crowley, we cannot keep coming here. Something is- something is wrong.”</p>
<p>Crowley raised an eyebrow, then smiled a bit, like he thought Aziraphale might be joking.</p>
<p>“What do you mean <em>wrong</em>? It’s perfect here, and I get to show you all the nice things I come up with.”</p>
<p>To punctuate the point, he kissed Aziraphale again, more intensely this time. Deeper. And Aziraphale loved it, and he responded with equal fervor, deciding to run his fingers through Crowley’s fiery hair like he’d wanted to since he first saw him. Crowley backed Aziraphale up against the tree, and it was all delightful. Crowley smelled like vanilla and freshly cut wood, and he tasted like apples. The stars twinkled sweetly above them, and everything was perfect.</p>
<p>Still, Aziraphale, who was there for something important, there to say something that need to be heard, had to break away. He sighed. “That’s exactly the problem. I just spoke with Gabriel and…Crowley, they’re calling you a <em>sinner</em>, for things like this.”</p>
<p>Crowley’s hands fell from Aziraphale’s face. He looked deeply confused, and Aziraphale hated that. He wished he could understand better what made Crowley so bad in the eyes of God and Gabriel, but it seemed entirely arbitrary to him. All Crowley did was make beautiful things. Aziraphale leaned against the tree, feeling defeated.</p>
<p>“So, I’m supposed to go back upstairs and forget about the stars, and the dancing, and <em>this</em>? I’m supposed to be alright with that?” Crowley asked, beginning to sound angry. Aziraphale had never heard him angry before.</p>
<p>“If I understand, correctly…yes.”</p>
<p>Crowley was silent for a moment. Looking at the ground, he said, “And what happens if I refuse?”</p>
<p>“Gabriel said God wants you and the other more independent angels gone. I don’t know what that means, though. I didn’t know you could get rid of an angel,” Aziraphale intoned.</p>
<p>Crowley turned his back to Aziraphale.</p>
<p>“I suppose they asked you to stop talking to me.”</p>
<p>“Yes, but it doesn’t have to be that way. Just come back and forget about all this, and everything will be fine. Gabriel said they’re willing to give <em>me</em> a second chance, so maybe they’ll-“</p>
<p>Crowley wheeled around to face Aziraphale again, and asked, floodgates barely holding back his frustration, “What do you mean <em>second chance</em>?”</p>
<p>“I mean stop this. Stop coming here. You would be reformed, and everything would be okay.” Aziraphale felt increasingly guilty every time he opened his mouth, but this wasn’t just about <em>following the rules like a good boy</em>. This was about Crowley’s life. Nothing had ever died before; the universe was that young. Aziraphale was prepared to do and say anything to make sure Crowley wasn’t the universe’s first casualty.</p>
<p>“Reformed!” Crowley spat, the stars above them glowing a bit brighter to match his vitriol. “You realize I’d have to have something wrong with me to need reformation, right?”</p>
<p>“I’m not saying I agree, but I can’t go against the Word of God! We had deniability before, but not anymore! There were no sins before, but now there are, and I can’t ignore that!” Aziraphale said, the tension within him rising.</p>
<p>“So, you really think everything I’ve shown you is somehow sinful? Just because some lady said it is?”</p>
<p>“That <em>lady</em> is God and I am trying to protect you from Her, Crowley!” Aziraphale shouted back, his voice breaking. Crowley’s anger seemed to crumble at the sound. The stars dimmed.</p>
<p> “No, it sounds like you’re picking sides.”</p>
<p>“That isn’t true,” Aziraphale said, barely above a whisper, “but you know as well as I that we, as angels, are both beholden to Her Word, to Her Plan.”</p>
<p>Crowley backed away a few steps, looking betrayed.</p>
<p>“It seems like you’ve made your choice, Aziraphale.”</p>
<p>“Crowley, is pride really that important to you? So important you would risk your life for it?” Aziraphale asked. He thought he might approach Crowley, try to comfort him, but he hesitated. It felt like there was a wall between them.</p>
<p>“Yes, it is.”</p>
<p>“Pride is a sin. Gabriel told me so.”</p>
<p>“It is impossible for me to give any less of a shit about what anyone thinks sin is because even God wasn’t sure until, what, 20 minutes ago? My <em>pride</em> is what makes me who I am. It’s what made all of this possible, angel,” Crowley replied.</p>
<p>No one spoke for several very long seconds. Then:</p>
<p>“You’re an angel, too, you know,” Aziraphale said.</p>
<p>Crowley cast his eyes to the ground. “That won’t last,” he said. He turned on his heel and made for the steps.</p>
<p>Aziraphale looked up at the sky to avoid seeing Crowley go, and instead watched the stars as they winked out, one by one.</p>
<p>Aziraphale pulled the small tartan pocket square out of his jacket pocket and wondered if Crowley would ever get to see it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The War</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gabriel did not respond well to this. He, of course, threw the first punch...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A few days passed, and Aziraphale did not see Crowley. Not at Headquarters, not out and about, and certainly not on Earth (which Aziraphale had not visited since their fight). Aziraphale asked around, but no one had seen him. Seeing as Crowley is just about impossible to miss, he took that to mean the red-headed angel was in hiding.</p>
<p>No one had seen Azazel or Lucifer around in while, either.</p>
<p>Eventually, what Aziraphale feared most came to pass. Michael and the highest of the holy hosts declared war on the rebel angels, ready to attack whenever the opportunity presented itself. Wherever Lucifer and his battalion were hiding, they were no longer safe.</p>
<p>Outside Headquarters, right beside the newly released list of the Seven Deadly Sins were the names of all the sinful angels. Aziraphale searched them the moment they were posted, hoping that maybe Crowley had managed to evade conviction, but there he was, Nachashael, 11<sup>th</sup> from the top of the list. Lucifer was, of course, public enemy number 1. Aziraphale thought perhaps Crowley being public enemy number 11 would mean a lesser punishment.</p>
<p>He found out from Gabriel, though, who approached Aziraphale after a staff-wide meeting of the “good” angels, that the punishment would be the same for all the rebels: they would be expelled from Heaven and become <em>something else</em>. Exactly what, Aziraphale didn’t know, but he knew that Crowley had been right- he wouldn’t be an angel for long.</p>
<p>“That doesn’t seem fair,” Aziraphale replied in a monotone voice. He knew Gabriel found the whole situation deeply entertaining, and he would not give him the satisfaction of a reaction.</p>
<p>“Sin is sin, Aziraphale. Honestly, I’m surprised I didn’t see you on the list, too, I mean,” and Gabriel pulled the tartan pocket square from Aziraphale’s jacket, “what <em>is</em> this?”</p>
<p>Aziraphale reached out to take the piece of fabric back, but Gabriel pushed him back into his chair with one hand and held the square away from him with the other.</p>
<p>“Did he make this for you?” Gabriel asked, running his thumb over the soft fabric. Aziraphale detected just the slightest bit of, what was that? Jealousy? He mentally added envy to the list of Gabriel’s sins.</p>
<p>“No, he didn’t.”</p>
<p>Gabriel put on a look of mock concern.</p>
<p>“Oh, Aziraphale, not you, too. How about this: I’ll do you a little favor and <em>not</em> tell Heavenly Mother about this little expression of independence. Just get rid of it and there won’t be a problem. Well, unless <em>I</em> feel like there needs to be,” Gabriel said, gently tucking the piece of tartan fabric back into Aziraphale’s pocket. Gabriel gave it a gentle pat, then wandered away to speak with Michael and the other angels in his clique. Aziraphale had no idea how Gabriel hadn’t been convicted of the sin of wrath.</p>
<p>On a whim, Aziraphale made a complete hypocrite of himself and, with a little miracle, planted the tartan fabric in Gabriel’s back pocket. Gabriel didn’t notice, and he and his entourage left the conference room. Aziraphale could almost guarantee that Gabriel would tattle on him if caught with the fabric; even if he did say that it belonged to Aziraphale, though, he’d be forced to admit that he knew it belonged to him and didn’t tell. Aziraphale prided himself in his rule-following and dedication to God…but he wasn’t an idiot.</p>
<p>Aside from the announcement that the love of his life would be condemned, Aziraphale’s day had been very average. Paperwork, help design the humans, paperwork, miss Crowley, paperwork, miss Crowley, leave. That had been the pattern in the days since their fight. Even outside of his designated ‘miss Crowley’ parts of the day, his mind still went to him, with all his beauty and kindness. Every time he thought of him, though, there was a pang of guilt. Aziraphale hated himself for snubbing Crowley, for judging him for the things he’d created after enjoying them so thoroughly. The white-blonde angel wondered if Crowley was alright, wherever he was.</p>
<p>Since he’d taken some time to miss Crowley, Aziraphale knew it must be time for the last part of the day: <em>leave</em>. He pushed in his chair and gathered his things, then made his way to the ground floor of Headquarters. He thought he might visit Earth, just to look around. With Gabriel seemingly around every corner, he knew it was a risk, but even a few days away from Earth was taking its toll. He missed the river. Part of him hoped he might find the stars back in the sky, and Crowley there, ready to forgive him.</p>
<p>When Aziraphale made it into the lobby, shit (to borrow a word from Crowley) really hit the fan. Lucifer, Azazel, and Xaphan showed up to Headquarters uninvited and tried to strike a deal with God, but Michael and Gabriel stopped them at the doors. Lucifer and his gang were not unreasonable, perhaps not all that respectful (Xaphan was rather fiery with his insults), but they truly weren’t asking for much. Just some leeway. Lucifer made the mistake of saying that God wasn’t all She was cracked up to be, with Her arbitrary rules and unreasonable persecution, and said that even he could do a better job than Her.</p>
<p>Gabriel did not respond well to this. He, of course, threw the first punch, catching Lucifer in the jaw with a right hook. Azazel summoned a sword from nothing and charged at Gabriel, and Michael tackled Lucifer, who replied with a headbutt. Michael took off into the air, white wings practically glowing in the light, and Lucifer made chase. Xaphan began spitting literal fire, setting alight any furniture within his reach.</p>
<p>In an instant, from every direction, inside and outside the building, angels appeared, as if they’d been waiting for any reason at all to come charging in with their swords. Some of them Aziraphale knew from meetings, but most he did not. He wondered how anyone knew who they needed to be fighting, since it wasn’t like anyone wore uniforms (both sides were a tidal wave of eggshell), and he was sure no one had memorized the whole list of sinners. Aziraphale scanned the droves of angels for Crowley, but he was nowhere to be seen. He’d stick out in the mass of white and cream with that shock of red hair, for sure.</p>
<p><em>What if Crowley shows up? What if </em>I<em> have to fight him?</em> Aziraphale thought, and the just the <em>idea</em> of harming Crowley was enough to set him on edge.</p>
<p><em>This isn’t worth war. The rebels are asking for nothing more than some freedom</em>.</p>
<p>He summoned his sword (which was on fire, how fancy) so that he’d blend in with the rest of the warriors, and then set off to go find somewhere to hide. He dodged swords and Xaphan’s blaze until he found himself on the second floor, which was entirely abandoned but for a few angels in a fistfight at the end of the hall. Quietly, he pushed open the door to one of the conference rooms and locked it behind him with a miracle. Through the conference room windows, he could see angels aloft in the clouds, swords clashing, wings beating. Lucifer himself was there, still warring with Michael. Aziraphale approached the windows, attracted to the knock-down, drag-out fight like future humans would be attracted to car crashes. When Michael threw Lucifer against the windows with enough force to crack them, though, Aziraphale quickly closed the shades and stumbled back, urging his heart to <em>maybe stop pounding so hard</em>.</p>
<p>He waited for Lucifer to come crashing through the window, but he never did. Instead of Lucifer bursting through the windows, though, he had to worry about someone <em>else</em> pounding on the conference room doors. Aziraphale dove under the conference table and vanished his sword just as the doors were kicked in. He had been unaware that miracles could be defeated with brute force. From under the table, he heard a few footsteps, then the doors slammed shut, and then there was a loud, prolonged sigh. The visitor leaned against the wall beside the door and slowly, exhaustedly, slid down it until he sat on the floor. He was about eye-level with Aziraphale, who couldn’t contain his excitement at the sight of the visitor.</p>
<p>“Crowley!” Aziraphale exclaimed. Crowley hadn’t noticed Aziraphale on his hands and knees in the dark space under the table, and he jumped so dramatically that he whacked his head against the wall behind him with an upsetting <em>thump</em>.</p>
<p>“Aziraphale? What are you doing under there?” Crowley asked, jumping immediately to his feet to help him out from under the table. Crowley offered his hand, and the other angel gratefully took it.</p>
<p>“Hiding. You?”</p>
<p>“Hiding.”</p>
<p>For a moment, they simply looked at each other. Crowley had abandoned his spectacles and earrings, but he still wore the rings on his fingers. Without the glasses, Crowley’s golden eyes shone even brighter. His hair looked a bit messier than it had before, and there was a small cut across one of his cheekbones.</p>
<p>“Are you alright?” Aziraphale asked, before wrapping his arms tenderly around Crowley, who responded by kissing him on the temple.</p>
<p>“I am now.”</p>
<p>“Crowley, I want to join you. You, and Lucifer, and the rest. Heaven is not kind, and I cannot stand for something so determined to hurt you.”</p>
<p>“No, no, no- you don’t want to Fall.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale leaned back a bit to meet Crowley’s golden gaze. There was pain there, and fear. Concern and warning.</p>
<p>“You’re worth it.”</p>
<p>“I’m glad you think that, angel, but- it’s already happened to a few of them and-”</p>
<p>Crowley had to pause for a moment to gather himself. Aziraphale waited patiently.</p>
<p>“It’s awful. They <em>burn</em>, and they scream, and they suffer, and I think that knowing you had gone through that would hurt worse than going through it myself.”</p>
<p>“How do you think I feel knowing you’ll Fall?” Aziraphale asked. It wasn’t confrontational. Just a reminder that the playing field was level. The fear was mutual.</p>
<p>“I have no choice now. My name is on the list, and there is no hiding in Heaven. You aren’t on the list, though, and as long as you are in God’s good graces, I don’t want you to even <em>think</em> about following me,” Crowley pleaded.</p>
<p>“Crowley-“</p>
<p>“Besides, angel,” Crowley interrupted, “Heaven needs a little rebellion left after all this. Maybe you can get the dress code loosened a bit.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale let out a sad, half chuckle and looked to the floor. A million thoughts filtered through his head, thoughts of burning, and gold, and tartan, and stars, and apples, and love, <em>glorious</em> love, and suffering, and exile, and-</p>
<p>“Aziraphale?”</p>
<p>Aziraphale looked up at the sound of his name, and then Crowley was kissing him, slow and soft. Aziraphale memorized the way it felt, put to memory his scent, his taste, the way Crowley’s hair felt between his fingers. He would never get enough of that, and there he was, facing the reality of never having it again. He kissed back harder, held on tighter.</p>
<p>Then there was pounding on the doors, and the angels sprung apart faster than two birds confronted with a single stone.</p>
<p>“Nachashael! We know you’re in there. Open this door right now!” Gabriel shouted, without a trace of his usual false friendliness.</p>
<p>“Summon your sword,” Crowley demanded with a whisper that desperately wanted to be a shout.</p>
<p>“What? Why?”</p>
<p>“You have to fight me. Summon your sword.”</p>
<p>“No!”</p>
<p>“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Crowley grumbled. He summoned the sword for him, flames and all. Aziraphale refused to take it and vanished it, only for Crowley summon it in his other hand thrust the weapon toward Aziraphale.</p>
<p>“You have to do this, angel. They won’t leave you alone unless they think you’ve turned on me.”</p>
<p>“Was that one of your expletives?” Aziraphale asked in a pitiable attempt to distract Crowley, “That one sounded sort of fun.”</p>
<p>“<em>Yes</em>, it’s an expletive,” Crowley replied, then, quite exasperated, “now take the <em>fucking</em> sword.”</p>
<p>He begrudgingly took it. The doors burst open, and Gabriel and a few of his cronies poured in through the door. Before Aziraphale knew what was happening, Crowley had a sword, too, and he was attacking him, though not with much skill. Gabriel and his friends stopped short upon seeing the clumsy onslaught. Aziraphale couldn’t tell if he was going easy on him, or if he was just that ineffectual with a weapon. Aziraphale, also not very good in a fight, panicked and refused to engage, preferring to avoid as much of the fight as he could.</p>
<p>“What’s wrong with you? Don’t want to fight back against one of Lucifer’s minions, <em>angel?</em>” Crowley spat, saying <em>angel</em> like it burned his mouth. He swung at Aziraphale, who ducked out of the way. Crowley’s sword stuck in the wall beside them, and after a moment of tugging, he gave up on ever dislodging it. Gabriel’s crowd still stayed back, apparently enjoying watching their coworkers squirm.</p>
<p>“I will not fight you. Violence isn’t angelic at all. You should know that,” Aziraphale pleaded.</p>
<p>Crowley’s response was tackling Aziraphale to the ground. Aziraphale hit the ground with a sort of yelp, and the flaming sword was knocked away. After a few seconds of wrestling, where Aziraphale tried desperately not to accidentally hurt Crowley, Crowley wound up straddling Aziraphale, who was half-sitting, half-laying on the hard floor of the conference room.</p>
<p>“Come on, angel, <em>fight me</em>,” Crowley said, fisting his hands in the front of Aziraphale’s jacket and pulling him close, practically nose to nose. His back was to Gabriel, now, though, so while his voice was aggressive and taunting, his face was sympathetic. He gave Aziraphale a small, almost imperceptible nod of encouragement, which Aziraphale took to mean, <em>I love you, now please hit me</em>.</p>
<p>Aziraphale, after a nervous glance at Gabriel, gently placed his hands over Crowley’s, and Crowley’s face turned from <em>I love you</em> to <em>are you kidding me</em> in the blink of an eye. Aziraphale loudly thought apologies in Crowley’s direction.</p>
<p>Then Aziraphale headbutt him as hard as he could, which ended up being much harder than he thought. Crowley crumpled instantly, falling to the side in a pile of feathers and fashionable clothes. Dazed and seeing stars (not the pretty ones Crowley made, but the brain damage ones), Aziraphale just barely perceived Gabriel helping him to his feet, and the sound of his laughter.</p>
<p>“Didn’t know you had it in you, <em>bud</em>,” Gabriel teased, giving Aziraphale a hard slap on the back.</p>
<p>A few more angels filtered into the conference room. They picked up Crowley and carried him off, out of the room, and down the hall to God knows where so that he could Fall and join Lucifer and the rest. Aziraphale felt sort of strange knowing that the very last thing he did to the love of his life before they were irrevocably separated was give him a concussion.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. In the End</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“So, what are you now?” Aziraphale asked. “They’re calling your lot demons, aren’t they?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, demons. It’s not so bad. Spread evil, tempt the humans. Not a bad gig at all.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eventually, the last of the sinful angels Fell, and Heaven was peaceful once again. Aziraphale made sure he wasn’t present to see any of them Fall. Project Populate Earth was back into full swing in no time, and before he knew it, Aziraphale was downstairs, on Earth, watching over the humans. God found out about the apples on the tree by the river, and in what Aziraphale could only see as retribution for Crowley’s ingenuity, She imbued them with the knowledge of good and evil, thus making them a symbol of sin. God told Adam and Eve not to eat the apples and told Aziraphale to make sure they weren’t allowed to succumb to the temptation of knowledge.</p>
<p>Around the time the apples became forbidden, a serpent appeared. It laid near the humans, basking in the sun, and they spoke to it. Its scales were gold and black, and its eyes held more intelligence than the rest of the animals God had created. Sometimes it would wrap itself around the branches of the tree, and the humans would draw close to the tree’s fruit. Little miracles from Aziraphale would keep them from taking the apples, though. Every once in a while, he thought the serpent was looking at him, and Aziraphale wondered why God would create something expressly to tempt the humans. She was already omnipotent and omniscient, so what need was there for testing the humans?</p>
<p>As he sat at the Eastern Gate one day, he came to the conclusion that, maybe, just maybe, the humans deserved to know about good and evil. God had given them intelligence, so why should they not be allowed to use it? Aziraphale believed in his heart that, like angels, humans deserved freedom. Perhaps the sin of eating the forbidden fruit might allow them to invent and do wonderful things like Crowley had.</p>
<p>That is why, the next time he saw the serpent tempt the humans, he did nothing. Eve took one of the apples from the tree, took a bite, and then shared the apple with Adam. Their eyes opened wide with the sudden realisation of their own nakedness, and they scampered off to find something to make clothes and shelter from. They also just happened to find a flaming sword laying on the ground nearby, an event with which Aziraphale would deny involvement.</p>
<p>The serpent looked up from its branch, and Aziraphale knew for sure that time that the snake was looking at him. There was something familiar about its golden eyes and sparkling scales, something that made his heart flutter. The humans weren’t supposed to see him watching over them, but Aziraphale, knowing they might return after an hour or after just a few minutes, took a chance and approached the tree. The snake did not break eye contact with the angel until Aziraphale placed a hand on its head. The snake then closed its eyes and leaned gently against his touch, and then Aziraphale knew.</p>
<p>“Crowley, dear,” Aziraphale said, his voice laced with both relief and profound pain.</p>
<p>Then Aziraphale blinked, and the serpent was gone, replaced with man, lounging with his eyes closed on the branch where the snake had been. He wore all black but for his golden jewelry. Even his wings had turned jet-black, and his fiery hair proved even brighter against black than it had against white. Scales had turned to skin under Aziraphale’s palm, and Crowley reached up to cover the angel’s hand with his own. He opened his eyes, and Aziraphale saw at once that his pupils were naught but slits now, just like a snake. Aziraphale still found those eyes beautiful.</p>
<p>“It’s actually Crawly now, since, you know…I crawl,” Crowley replied, turning his face to kiss Aziraphale’s palm.</p>
<p>“Whatever you like, darling,” Aziraphale replied, though he would still think of him as <em>Crowley</em>, and would wind up feeling quite a bit of satisfaction when he returned to calling himself <em>Crowley</em> sometime during the Greco-Roman period.</p>
<p>Crowley pulled Aziraphale onto the branch, and they sat side by side, watching the sun set.</p>
<p>“So, what are you now?” Aziraphale asked. “They’re calling your lot demons, aren’t they?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, demons. It’s not so bad. Spread evil, tempt the humans. Not a bad gig at all.”</p>
<p>“You did a good thing, there, tempting the humans like that,” Aziraphale said as he rested his head on Crowley’s shoulder. The demon made a noise of disgust.</p>
<p>“What do you mean? That was expressly meant to be bad!”</p>
<p>“Oh, I know, but I really think God was setting them up for failure. It was nice of you to speed along the process, let them reach their potential.”</p>
<p>Crowley chuckled.</p>
<p>“Are you sure it wasn’t God’s Plan that they stay ignorant forever? I might have just ruined the whole thing, angel,” Crowley teased. Aziraphale picked up his head to look at the demon, his eyes radiating fondness and love. The sun dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky dark and empty. The humans still hadn’t returned.</p>
<p>“We’ll see,” Aziraphale said with a smile.</p>
<p>They sat in companionable silence for a while, waiting for the humans, but they never came back. They heard the sounds of fighting in the distance, probably Adam and Eve facing down one of God’s creatures, whose hide would make their clothes. Aziraphale was thankful for their absence. He wasn’t ready to get up from the branch quite yet.</p>
<p>Aziraphale was pulled from his thoughts by Crowley, who had begun to cuff the angel’s jacket sleeves so that he might see the fabric inside.</p>
<p>“Looks like you really did get the dress code loosened upstairs, angel,” Crowley said, drawing his fingers across the crisscrossing lines of beige, black, grey, and red.</p>
<p>“It was Gabriel, actually. He was caught with some…contraband. He’s very close with God, so I suppose he convinced her that maybe a little self-expression isn’t so bad, after all,” Aziraphale explained, his satisfaction evident. There was a mischievous glint in Crowley’s serpentine eyes.</p>
<p>“Oh, but you were <em>involved</em>, weren’t you?” Crowley said, leaning in so that he was just a breath away from Aziraphale. So close, Aziraphale noticed that Crowley scent had transformed a bit, from the light, pleasant smells of freshly cut wood and vanilla to something a bit heavier, like woodsmoke and spices. The angel decided he liked that better.</p>
<p>“Assume whatever you please, tempter.”</p>
<p>After a pause, Aziraphale added, “It’s called tartan, by the way.”</p>
<p>Crowley smiled and kissed him. Aziraphale was quite pleased that memorizing his kiss had proven unnecessary. As Aziraphale’s eyes closed and he put his hands on Crowley’s hips, the blank sky filled with stars, each of them flashing like fireworks before settling down into their normal, soft glow. Aziraphale held fast to the demon, determined never to let him go again, not for the other angels, not for God, not even for the end of the world, whenever that came.</p>
<p>In the distance, Adam and Eve reappeared, Eve carrying the flaming sword and lighting the way for Adam, who had a dead lion slung over his shoulder. They saw the stars appear, and then saw the angel and the demon, sitting on the lowest branch of the Tree of Knowledge, kissing. Curious, they tried it out.</p>
<p>Crowley had been right. The humans liked kissing quite a bit.</p>
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